The Doctor: Clarence Carnahan

It's not that Clarence Carnahan doesn't know what to do with his golden years. Carnahan plays tennis twice a week. He likes to travel and play golf. But the 83-year-old doctor still makes the trip into the Veteran's Affairs (VA) office in Bend once a week to meet with ex-soldiers, some whose service dates back to World War II, to help them deal with the lingering effects of combat.

A veteran himself, Carnahan was drafted into the service during the Second World War, but gives little thought to his own service, which he describes as light duty. The men he has treated over the years as a VA psychiatrist are the heroes, Carnahan says.

A former volunteer with the nonprofit physician group, Volunteers in Medicine and Hospice, Carnahan says he's let go of most of his professional duties at this point, but he's not quite ready to stop counseling veterans. It's something that he's been doing since the early 1970s. After retiring from the VA in Roseburg, Carnahan was tapped to start the Bend clinic, which he did in the late '90s, meeting with veterans at the employment office until a permanent facility was available. Since then, psychiatrists have come and gone (Carnahan has worked with three different managers so far), but Carnahan remains, bumping up to full time when necessary to ensure that patients have a doctor to see even when the clinic is short staffed.

"It's a great retirement job. I get to see the people I want to see and I enjoy hanging around with them. And when I've had enough, I can say, 'Well, I won't be here for a week,'" Carnahan said during a recent conversation with the Source.

While Carnahan's approach to his work may sound breezy, the issues that his patients bring into his office are all too serious and all too common for soldiers returning from Iraq and Afghanistan, as well as those who have served in past conflicts. Carnahan said it's not unusual for ex-solders to suppress their demons for years, only to have them appear later due to some external factor. It can be triggered by a death, a divorce or something as simple as retirement.

"There were two people that I saw today who worked hard until they melted down. I liken it to a person who's running a boat full speed, skimming across the surface and doing great. But once you lose power, you get swamped and that's what a lot of them do," Carnahan said.

More in Local Heroes

Deidre Heinrich wouldn't label herself a hero. In fact, when we told her she was nominated as a local hero, she spent a few minutes trying to convince us why it's her job, not her, that is heroic. But no matter what she says, Heinrich saves people's lives on a daily basis in a profession that was named the most dangerous in America by the Wall Street Journal.
Heinrich, who also volunteers her time at many local charities, including the Bethlehem Inn, the Red Cross and the Bend Community Center, works 24-hour shifts as a flight nurse for St. Charles Medical Center. Each morning Heinrich heads to work, she is debriefed with her crew, which includes pilots, respiratory therapists and other flight nurses, and prepares her plane or helicopter for the unknown. Depending upon the day, Heinrich and her three-person team may respond to as many as six calls during a 24-hour period.

Richard "Dick" Gorby's office in the Deschutes County Parole and Probation building is lined with pictures. A photograph of his father in military dress, a map of wartime Vietnam and photos of Gorby holding plaques, surrounded by veterans, family, friends and the parolees he works with every day.
Gorby, a Vietnam veteran - he served as a minesweeper from '63 to '65 - has always been active in veterans affairs. But it wasn't until just 15 years ago when he realized he suffered from PTSD related to the war that he changed his profession from marketing to social services, leaving behind what he called his "money years."

Jill Hodgson likes to call herself a "broke philanthropist," which is not just funny, but probably also an apt description of her role as a jack-of-all-trades do-gooder in Central Oregon.
Her job finds her as the volunteer coordinator at Common Table, downtown Bend's nonprofit restaurant, but her work extends far beyond that role. She's a poet who speaks about social change, she provides a helping hand to the city's homeless youth, helps out with arts education, coordinates neighborhood food growing efforts and, on top of all that, is always looking to help out friends and neighbors who also want to get involved in bettering the community.

When he's outside Tumalo Creek Kayak and Canoe, the popular water sports store he owns, Geoff Frank keeps a close ear on what's happening just feet from his back door on the Deschutes River. Frank and his employees are in the business of selling, renting and instructing people in the use of kayaks and canoes, but during the summer months, they've taken on an additional responsibility - listening for signs of distress near the Colorado Avenue bridge where floaters have in the past been known to find themselves in trouble.

Robert Tadjiki spends his days helping special needs students overcome disabilities by making sure that they focus on what they can do. A special education teacher at Bend High School, Tadjiki has been recognized for his outstanding work by the Oregon governor's office. In 2005, USA Today named Tadjiki to its annual teacher all-star list for his innovative approach to instruction. But it was a trip to China that truly expanded Tadjiki's horizons. There he met the director of a local orphanage who was selling traditional Chinese artwork in a public square. Tadjiki introduced himself and learned that the work was the product of Chinese orphans and that the proceeds were used to support the orphanage. The chance encounter led to the formation of a novel non-profit business, EChO (Educating Chinese Orphans) that is building schools for Chinese orphans, a la Greg Mortenson and Three Cups of Tea in Pakistan.

The word "hero" is sometimes applied quite literally, which is the case with Madras native Ryan Craig.
He joined the Army after doing a stint as a carpenter and was nearly killed by a sniper's bullet that pierced his combat helmet during a patrol in Kabul. Ryan, 23, was scrambling to assist a pair of injured soldiers after his unit came under fire from insurgents when he was hit. A brawny young man who played both offensive and defensive line for the Madras High School football team, Ryan literally carried the big gun in his patrol, a .308 caliber, Mach 48, designed to pin down enemy soldiers and keep them hunkered.

Lloyd Gust has never met a hiker he didn't like, and he's met a lot. Gust has been hiking the Pacific Crest Trail since 1946, or if you ask him, "back in the stone age." For the past 11 years, Gust has volunteered his time as a Pacific Crest Trail Angel, helping hikers on the trail by providing them with water while also bringing them into Bend and Sisters for medical care, a warm night's rest and plenty of beer, food and entertainment.
Each year Gust helps between 200 and 250 hikers who are in need in his area of the trail, which stretches from Windigo Pass, near Crater Lake, to just south of Mt. Hood.

A few celebrities that have made their way through the area.

A conservative corporate-backed organization that connects lawmakers with industry insiders to craft ready made laws could lose its non-profit status that allows it to wine and dine lawmakers like Central Oregon’s Gene Whisnant.